


Yang Xiao Long vs Tenebrous Remnant: Faunus

by Kiiratam



Series: Game Nights at Beacon Academy & Beyond [16]
Category: RWBY, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 10:10:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20974163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: Yang sees someone she knows at a little Mistral market town. Unfortunately, it's only a painting. Which just raises further questions...Takes place during Volume 4, Chapter 12, when Yang is on the road. (My BMBLB fic index)





	Yang Xiao Long vs Tenebrous Remnant: Faunus

Yang took a bite of the peach, swiping at the juice dribbling down her chin with the napkin in her new hand. Always good to get practice on precision stuff. She hadn't tried cracking eggs yet, but... All around her, the bustle of the market continued.

  
She hadn't caught the name of the town. After a few days of riding through Mistral, they'd all started blurring together, so she'd stopped caring. Yang was still on the road to Mistral, and she still had days before she had to figure out if she was actually going to the capital, or...

  
Pushing that away for later, Yang took another bite, and took inventory of her stores. A few more peaches, a couple of peppers, plenty of emergency granola and jerky. Plus those military rations her dad had made her take, 'just in case.' And two cans of pork and beans, if things got really desperate. She still had plenty of water. Above her, the sky was turning gray. Hopefully, it wouldn't rain. The next town was a full day away, but it was much too early in the day to stop. She'd have to camp out tonight.

  
A butcher's stall caught her eye. A couple of sausage links sounded pretty good for dinner. If she could get some flatbread from a baker, cook the peppers in the sausage juices... Sure, it wouldn't be _healthy_, but it would be tasty.

  
There was a long line at the butcher's stall, though. Yang shrugged to herself. A sign of quality, at least. Or they were the only butcher in town. She was just happy to walk around for a bit. Riding Bumblebee was still one of her favorite things, but on these long rides...

  
Yang finished her peach, wiped off the last of the juices from her face and hands, and tossed the pit and napkin in a nearby trash can. She looked around for a baker, or at least somewhere to browse.

  
_What_. Yang shook her head. There was no way. She blinked, and walked closer to the stall for a closer look.

  
Out in the front of the stall, sketching away at a canvas, was the artist. They were a wiry little person, their mouse-like Faunus ears almost hidden in their curly dark red hair. Smiling briefly at Yang as she walked by, they kept working, humming to themselves.

  
Yang stopped directly in front of the painting. It was too big to fit in her saddlebags, almost the size of a movie poster. And it was Blake. Mostly.

  
Long black hair, cat ears, Gambol Shroud, strappy clothes. It wasn't a perfect likeness - the facial features were more 'generic attractive person', but somehow, the painter had managed to capture the intensity of expression in Blake's golden eyes. Aaaaaand they'd bumped Blake up a few cup sizes.

  
She looked for a title card. 'Moira Nightshade of the Red Talon.' _Oh no._

  
Behind her, the artist asked, "You like it?"

  
Yang made sure her friendly mask was on before she turned around. But not the flirty mask. Nooooo, not that one. "Sure do. You play Tenebrous Remnant games?"

  
They smiled widely, a genuine spark of delight in their eyes. "You noticed! No one else has ever done that!" They paused. "I mean, apart from my friends, but they don't want her."

  
"Oh?"

  
Rubbing their cheek, leaving a smudge of charcoal behind, they chuckled. "She _kiiiiinda_ kicked all their butts."

  
"What gameline?"

  
"WereGrimm. They needed to pull a job against the SDC, so they tried to use the Red Talon as a distraction. And-" They pulled themselves up. "I'm sorry, I don't meant to ramble at you."

  
Yang smiled. "It's okay. I'm killing time anyway." She pointed at the line in front of the butcher's stall.

  
"Oh. Yeah, Zhōng just finished a batch of pepper sausage, so everyone's stocking up. Well, they pulled the job, and a bunch of Red Talon goons got killed, so Moira came after them. It... didn't go well for them. That shadow clone Semblance she has is OP. And I even toned it down, so she couldn't summon more than one." They shook their head, and extended their hand. "I'm Chì Tù."

  
Yang shook their hand. "Yang Xiao Long."

  
"So, do you play?"

  
_Oh boy._ "Not WereGrimm. I play F&F."

  
"Oh." Yang could see them consider that briefly, load all the standard WereGrimm vs F&F arguments, and continue. "So how did you recognize Moira?"

  
At least this wasn't going to turn into a war of whose roleplaying game was better (but it was F&F). Instead, it was going to be the spectacularly more awkward- "I had a friend who had... opinions on _TR: Faunus_. She shared them with me, at length." _Aaaaaand then we burned the book, hoping it wouldn't poison the fire._

  
"Oh yeah, it can be really divisive. My group had to rewrite half the book before we could use it." They sighed. "I get that that Pale Beowolf is trying, but they really need better sources. And to have talked to a couple of Faunus before they went to print. It's unfortunate, really. There's a lot of cool stuff buried in _TR: Faunus_. I just hope the revised gamelines can bring that out, and get rid of most of the creepy racism stuff. Is your friend a Faunus?"

  
"Yeah. She spent a lot of time protesting for Faunus Rights, too, so all of the bad stuff in there..."

  
Chì Tù nodded vigorously. "Oh, it's absolutely bad. But like I said, there are parts that are salvageable. Like Moira, she's amazing. I keep having her show up to terrorize my players, it's great. We progress our game in real time, so she's, uh, twenty, twenty-one at this point?"

  
"Nineteen." Yang cursed inwardly. Everything that happened next was her own fault.

  
"Um. Are you _sure_ you don't play? Because you _also_ seem to have opinions on this."

  
Yang blew out a breath. "My friend? She's... ex-White Fang. From the Vale cell."

  
Chì Tù narrowed their eyes, looking up at Yang. "Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"

  
"That Pale Beowolf based some of their characters on real people?"

  
"And your friend, what, knows the inspiration for Moira?"

  
Yang pulled out her wallet, and took out the little picture of team RWBY from it. She showed it to Chì Tù, who just blinked and leaned in for a closer look.

  
"Oh." They looked back and forth between the picture, and their art of Moira. "I got her face all wrong, didn't I?"

  
"Yeah, but you _did_ capture how she looks when she's beating people up." The least Yang could do was compliment their art. She put the picture back in her wallet, and stuffed that away in her pocket.

  
"Uh. Thanks." They blinked a few times, shook themselves. "Sorry, this is kind of a lot. ...Was that a _Schnee_ in that picture?"

  
"Yup."

  
"But she's supposed to be a F... no, wait, sorry, too much gaming reading, not enough news." Chì Tù bustled past Yang, and lifted the canvas off the stall. "I need to revise this."

  
"It's fine as it is."

  
"I mean, now I know it's _wrong_. I can't just sell it. Unless you want to buy it?"

  
For a long, long moment, Yang was tempted. But then she remembered how much Blake had hated that book. "No, thank you. I do like it, but... it would be weird."

  
"Is it okay if I keep using Moira? In my game, I mean."

  
"I think my friend would be happy to beat up WereGrimm. Just a, uh... heads-up, though?"

  
"Sure. What is it?"

  
"The leader of the Vale cell, in real life, is a few steps below pond scum. He led the White Fang attack on Beacon."

  
"Oh." Chì Tù nodded slowly, still holding Moira's picture. "I'll try to figure out something appropriate to do with him, then."

  
Yang found herself smiling. "I'm thinking a shallow grave, but whatever works for you." She glanced over at the butcher, and found the line much shorter. "I should go. I need to get dinner and get back on the road."

  
"Oh. Ummm, pleasure to meet you?" They laughed. "Really, really weird, but a pleasure."

  
"Same. And happy gaming."

  
"You too. Safe travels."

  
"Thanks." Yang strolled off. She should look up this town's name. Just in case she needed a painting.


End file.
